


A Place To Call Home?

by CobaltStargazer



Series: Dare You To Love Me [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/F, Falling In Love, Families of Choice, rural life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:53:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22228954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobaltStargazer/pseuds/CobaltStargazer
Summary: In a quiet place, an ex-soldier and a widow are looking for a fresh start, and end up with a lot more.
Relationships: Cara Dune/Omera (Star Wars)
Series: Dare You To Love Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600063
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	A Place To Call Home?

Sorgun was quiet again.

It was spring when the hunter left, taking the child with him. In the years to come, the story would become a local legend, becoming more and more fantastic with each retelling. One Imperial Walker would become ten, fifty raiders would be two hundred, and the soldier and the helmeted warrior who did their best to turn villagers into an army would be granted the ability to see through walls, kill enemies with their bare hands and bring down armored droids with a single shot. Just enough of the truth to build on.

One left and one stayed, and the one who left said ' _Until our paths cross_ ' before settling back on the automated wagon. Cara remained behind. No one had a tracking fob out for her, and Sorgun was enough of a backwater that she could take a brief rest. The grateful residents offered her housing, but she declined in favor of claiming a loft in one of the barns. The weather was fair, and with the warmest months still on the way she preferred the familiar confines of a close roof and a ladder to climb up and down. A bunk rather than a large room.

"Did you learn that in the army?"

"I learned a lot of things in the army."

She and Omera had become, if not friends, then more than acquaintances in the weeks following Mando's departure. The spring harvest was back in full swing, and sometimes Cara would join the hunters in the forest. Game animals were plentiful, and providing meat for the table was her way of contributing. With the raiders either dead or scattered, peace had been restored, though she'd idly considered continuing the militia training. If only to pass the time rather than practicality.

The former trooper had just finished dressing out a marlak, was looking forward to flank steaks. The water in the rinse basin was a light blue, one that gradually turned darker as she washed her hands up to the wrists. "We didn't really hunt for our food, but some of us went native, started learning local customs. Especially after Endor. Looking back on it, a third of us were getting ready to hang it up, were trying to develop new skill sets for something to fall back on."

"But not you."

Blue-tinged water slopped out of the bowl as Cara finished washing up, dried her hands on a rough towel. "I work for myself now, not a government," she said. "I don't have to mop up someone else's messes or keep some mid-level diplomat from tripping over his shoe laces. It might not be different, but it's different enough."

There was a silence, and Omera watched the other woman in profile. In the years since her daughter's birth, she'd taken up herbalism, did some healing and the occasional bit of midwifing. Because there was no industry in Sorgun, no factories or nearby power plant, they relied on farming and hunting, bartered with the neighboring townships for what they couldn't produce themselves. When Winta's father was growing up, there _had_ been a mine, but after the vein was tapped out it was closed and shuttered. Still. She appreciated the quiet, the lack of bustle.

"I never thanked you, by the way."

"Me? For what?"

"For volunteering to fight. I don't think we'd have gotten as many people to pick up weapons if you hadn't. That was some impressive shooting."

They were exactly the same height, and though Cara had begun to wash the knives she'd been using and put them away, some of her attention was still on the other woman. It was rare to find such bravery in an isolated place like this. Even with the Empire defeated, there were still pockets of trouble, and most people would have preferred to keep their heads down. Omera was clearly not most people.

"Winta's father showed me how to use a gun. The village was much smaller when I first arrived, and we were short of hunters for several seasons."

She said it simply enough, but there was a trace of a warning in it, a caution not to press. The shed was warm, smelling of fur scrapings and spilled blood. Cara inclined her head in a slight nod, a soldier who understood more of loss than she liked to talk about. Omera's posture relaxed a telltale couple of notches.

"Sorry. It's just...I don't like to..."

"Don't apologize. I don't need an explanation."

"Thank you for your help. Because you're right, not many people would have agreed to step up without someone strong to lead us. Warriors."

Despite herself, Cara felt her ears get warm, and she averted her gaze, turning towards the path leading towards the center of the village. "No, that's not...I'm just a soldier, or I was. Not a warrior. Mando's a warrior."

"You're selling yourself short. His code makes him honorable, and it's clear he and the child have a bond, but you did more than your part. So, thank you, Cara."

It was the first time Omera had used her name, and the former shock trooper met Omera's eyes with her own and let herself smile. Before the hunter had left, she'd asked if he didn't want to stay, remain here with the child. He'd never answered her, not directly, and in the end he'd had to leave in order to draw the danger away. But she had stayed, using the excuse that she wanted some quiet, a break. 

But maybe it was more than that.

Like a pair of pretty brown eyes.


End file.
